"
"We may congratulate ourselves, however, that we are not to lose
her," said Mrs. Pollock. "She is to remain in--"
"Whe-when is it to take place?" groaned Charlie, moisture starting
out on his brow.
"That," began Mr. Pollock, "is a matter which cannot be definitely
announced at present, owing to certain family--er--ah--conditions.
In addition to this, I may say that there is also the children to
consider, as well as the township trustee and, to an extent, the
taxpayer. The--"
"All I've got to say," grated Charlie, "is that the police ought
to be consulted, first of all."
"The police!" exclaimed Angie Miller.
"The--the what?" gasped Furman Hatch, lifting his head suddenly.
He was very red in the face. "I'd like to know what the devil the
police have to do with it?"
Charlie took a look at Angie Miller's face, and then the truth
dawned upon him. He sank back in his chair so suddenly that the
legs gave forth an ominous crack.
"Don't do that!" cried Margaret Slattery sharply. "You know them
chairs are not made of iron. And I don't want you flopping all over
me when I'm passing the stew--"
"Yes, sir!" boomed Charlie, who had collected his wits by this time,
and was pointing his finger accusingly at Mr. Hatch. "The police
have simply got to be called. It's going to take half the force,
including Bill Foss, to keep me from drinking the heart's blood of
my hated rival.
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